They were on the edge of the Promised Land. With one more push forward, the children of Israel would tread upon their inheritance.
This had been their reason for leaving Egypt, their purpose for enduring the hardships of nomadic life, their impetus behind traversing the desert and journeying many miles in the face of tremendous difficulty. God had promised them the land of Canaan. He’d called them out and freed them from the yoke of slavery with the assurance He was going to give them a place of their own—a place where they wouldn’t have to deal with the oppression and bondage that had been their lot for the past four centuries. He’d led them, provided for them, and intervened in their behalf. And now, with the end of their journey in sight, they stood on the threshold of a dream.
But as is so often the case, courage oozed out of the people at that decisive moment. Although everything they’d worked for was w/in their grasp, cowardice—assuming the disguise of caution and discretion—stopped them in their tracks.
In this series of posts, I’ve been writing about renewal. I began by saying the essence of renewal is the transforming touch of Jesus upon our life when we make Him the sole object of our faith, and it’s marked by letting the Word of God assume an authoritative role in our lives. I talked about how it’s linked to a people whose worship of God is characterized by authenticity and genuineness and nurtured within a people who’ve embraced the fact there’s a cost to their faith and demonstrated a willingness to pay the price. In my last post, I said it’s fostered by a people who don’t buy into the notion that ministry is lodged in the vocational clergy”but who sense God’s call to use their talents, gifts, and abilities in tangible ways that serve to expand His Kingdom.
In this post, I want to conclude this emphasis by looking at a sixth key to renewal, and this familiar Old Testament story does a great job of highlighting it for us. It tells us renewal happens when and where there’s a deep belief in the possibilities of the future—where people believe the best days are ahead and there’s a spirit of hope, faith, optimism, and courage. Renewal comes to settings where people are convinced that, with God’s help, the future is bright.
Unfortunately, this story doesn’t relate this truth on the basis of a people who realized that bright future because of their faith. We learn it on the basis of what they didn’t do—how their absence of courage and lack of faith at a critical juncture stopped them on the spot and resulted in renewal being delayed for an entire generation.
The story is found in Numbers 13-14. At the Lord’s behest, a dozen men—one from each of Israel’s tribes—were charged to go into the Promised Land, check things out, and come back with a report. However in Deuteronomy 1—an introductory section that serves as a preface to that book—it seems to indicate the motive for sending out the spies originated in the people’s terror at the thought of having to go to war. When they arrived at the Desert of Paran, the southernmost region of the Promised Land, Moses summoned them to go to battle. But they were frightened and his summons was met with a response, “Lets investigate this more fully”. The people didn’t come right out and say, “We’re terrified!” Rather, their sentiment was one of, “Lets get some additional info so we can determine how best to proceed.” And Moses, thinking the request sounded reasonable and not recognizing the faithlessness that was hiding in the shadows, yielded.
Indeed, some could look at the discrepancy between the two accounts and question the truth of the Bible. But I don’t think that’s in play here, for there’s a sense in which both viewpoints are true. The Deuteronomy account points to the lack of faith which precipitated the request, and the Numbers account shows us what happened when their faithless actions played out. Put the two together and you get the full picture: God challenged the people to move forward, but He let them have their way. Knowing their unbelief would have made any hopes of conquest impossible, He educated them by letting them have their way and tasting its bitter results.
How many of us can relate to that? Most of us can think of a situation where God asked us to move forward in and we chose to lollygag and stay put—insisting that we knew better and were going to do what we thought was best—until God gave in and let us have our way? And we reaped the unfortunate results of our actions and learned the hard way that His plan was a whole lot better. We’ve all had that experience, and that’s what’s happening here.
The spies were sent out with a two-fold charge—look into the fitness of the country for settlement and scope out the military strength of the inhabitants. Regarding the first, they pretty much knew what they’d find, for God had told them repeatedly that the land He was giving them was a land “flowing with milk and honey”. He had also assured them of its conquest through numerous instances up to this point—the parting of the Red Sea, the provision of manna, and water from the rock at Horeb. He’d demonstrated His ability to remove obstacles from their path. The cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night had assured them He was with them.
But they were scared, and their fears were very normal. They were slaves; they didn’t have a long line of military successes to point to. Their collective self-concept had taken a beating during four centuries of oppression. Their belief in themselves, or lack thereof, had been profoundly shaped by their servitude. It’s perfectly natural they’d shrink at the prospect of bloodshed.
And … there’s nothing wrong with the desire to get accurate information to go on before you launch out. Good data is valuable. But it’s a bad sign when faith, or rather unbelief, dispatches common sense to be its scout to where we feel the need to verify God’s guidance. To not believe Him unless we arrive at the same conclusion after going through our process is tantamount to not believing Him at all.
So what we have here is a group of people who did very much what many of us who profess to be Christians do every day. For how many of us—when faced with some task that involves difficulty or danger but has been unmistakably laid upon us by the will of God—conceal our lack of courage and shelter our fears under the pretext of “knowing a little more about it first” before moving out in obedience? How many of us balk and back away from a tough assignment simply because it’s going to be hard? How many of us, when we know exactly what He wants us to do, choose not to move forward because, deep down, we lack faith? Whether it be an issue of lifestyle, priorities, or stewardship, I dare say all of us have some experience in that arena.
So it was the men went on their mission. And when they returned, the people came together to hear what they had to say. They began by producing a great cluster of grapes as indicative of the land’s fertility. Undoubtedly, an agrarian people who’d spent the last few years wandering in the wilderness were captured by the possibilities. But while honesty necessitated the spies acknowledge the land’s tremendous bounty, their cowardice began to assert itself as they proceeded to describe the terrors of the giants, the strength of the cities, and the crowded population. And it wasn’t too long before the people were convinced the possibilities just weren’t worth the price. When everything was said and done and the presentation was over, they were ready to turn around and head back to Egypt.
That night all the members of the community raised their voices and wept aloud. All the Israelites grumbled against Moses and Aaron, and the whole assembly said to them, “If only we had died in Egypt! Or in this wilderness! Why is the Lord bringing us to this land only to let us fall by the sword? Our wives and children will be taken as plunder. Wouldn’t it be better for us to go back to Egypt?” And they said to each other, “We should choose a leader and go back to Egypt.” (Numbers 14:1-4)
When you listen to their report, you think, “We don’t see the world as it is but, rather, we see it as we are. The spies went looking for reasons to not move forward and, sure enough, found them.” They didn’t see the Promised Land as it was; they saw it as they were. When they opened their mouths to describe what they saw, they in effect described themselves. No doubt their report was accurate and factual. Some of the cities were walled and, to people who’d spent years wandering in the desert, undoubtedly looked insurmountable. But just because the report was accurate doesn’t mean it wasn’t one-sided. Those spies aren’t the last people who, when sent out to bring home facts, managed to convey very a decided opinion in the course of presenting those facts. They began with a very brief admission of the land’s bounty but immediately went into detail regarding the numerous obstacles they’d encountered. By the time they finished their presentation, nobody was wanting to go anywhere but backwards.
To begin a perilous enterprise without acknowledging the risks and owning up to their existence is foolishness. But similarly, to look at the risks and only the risks only is every bit as foolish. When you’ve got the command of God on the one side and these mournful forecasts of gloom and doom on the other, to go with the latter isn’t simply foolishness—it’s an insult to God! And to determine whether we do what God wants us on the basis of our faithless feelings isn’t simply folly—it’s sin! For God doesn’t call us to a certain task unless He equips us to handle it. These people should have known that.
In fact, there were a couple that knew it—two men named Joshua and Caleb. They authored the minority report that was at odds with the findings of the rest of the commission. These two had seen everything the others had seen, but, as I said previously, so much depends upon the eyes of those who see. Where the others measured themselves against the military might of the current occupants of the Promised Land, Joshua and Caleb measured what they found against the power of their God. Where the others were awed at the great, walled cities, these two recognized a walled city was nothing compared to liberating a people from slavery or parting a body of water. These two didn’t dispute or deny the facts—they saw exactly what the other ten men had seen. But they factored the presence and help of God into the equation and reached a very different conclusion.
Caleb silenced the people before Moses and said, “We should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it.” (Numbers 13:30). This confidence prompted a reaction from the other ten—a reaction full of distortion and exaggeration. In their initial report they held up the magnificent cluster of grapes as indicative of the land’s bounty. But now, they passed along a puzzling expression in v. 32 about how “the land ... devours those living in it”—a blatant contradiction of their previous admission of its fertility. In addition, “all the people” were giants—an obvious distortion. No doubt the people were large, but fear performed the miracle of increasing their height by a foot and doubling their number at a snap of the fingers. Then the last phrase: “We seemed like grasshoppers in our own eyes, and we looked the same to them.” These ten went as far as to speculate how these folks viewed them. At this point, they’ve moved on from sharing what they found to exposing the faithlessness with which they went about their task. And it was enough to shut down what God wanted to do.
And that’s the point as it relates to renewal. Ephesians 3:20 says, “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us …”. I believe that verse is true with all my heart. But I also believe God can do no more than what our faith lets Him to do. If we don’t believe He can break through in the future—if we don’t think He’s capable of turning things around—He can’t. It’s not that we determine God’s actions or that He takes His cues of us. But in a very real sense, we set the boundaries. We establish the parameters. We can, by our faithlessness, place limitations on Him.
I often wonder how often we restrict the range of what’s possible because we doubt God’s ability. Not that we come right out and say, “We don’t think God can handle it”. But I sometimes wonder if we assume the role of “God’s protector” and shy away from taking a measured risk because we don’t want to fail and, as a result, have Him lose face?
In many ways, that’s what happened here. I seriously doubt any of the men that came back with the recommendation to stay put thought of themselves as lacking faith. They probably saw themselves as men of common sense—men of prudence and discretion. But they were also men who became “God’s protectors”. Not wanting God to fail and lose the respect of the surrounding peoples, they decided to park it. They looked at the future and didn’t see it as an opportunity to experience a breakthrough. They saw it, rather, as an opportunity to fall flat on their faces and fail. And because failure was foremost in their minds, failure was the result!
I understand that the futures of hundreds of thousands of people rested on their recommendations. They didn’t want to be the ones people would point to as the source of unnecessary casualties. Their recommendation wasn’t something to be taken lightly or flippantly. But what’s interesting is that, by recommending what they considered to be the safe route, they brought about the results they were fearing in the first place. By staying put and trying to minimize the potential for death, they were the cause for an entire generation dying in the desert. For the children of Israel remained in the desert until this generation died off and a generation of faith could be raised up. And they were the ones who ventured into the Promised Land. They were the ones who saw the hand of God move on their behalf. They were the ones who saw the Jordan River part so they could enter the land. They were the ones who saw the walls of Jericho crumble to the ground. They were the ones who saw the sun stand still at Gibeon. In fact, only two men who heard the report were around to witness the extraordinary working of God—Joshua and Caleb. Although it was postponed for an entire generation, their faith was rewarded
Here's my point: If renewal is going to come, it must begin with an unshakable belief in our hearts that God is capable of pulling it off, that He wants to bring it about, and that He can and will help us overcome any future obstacles that are standing in our way. And, in closing, I’d like to simply raise this question for each of us to ask ourselves: When history looks back upon my life—when people reflect upon the decisions I made—will they say I had faith to go with God into the future even though there was some measure of risk involved, or will they say I chose to lay back and play it safe out of fear? Will they say I did what God wanted, or will they say I shrunk back from the challenge?
Renewal comes to a people of faith—a people who believe the future is in God’s hands and are committed to its possibilities. Lets be that kind of people!